He turned
round to me as he nocked his arrow, and said:
"I would they were just fifty paces nigher, and they move not.
Ho! Jack Straw, shall we shoot?"
For the latter-named was nigh us now; he shook his head and said
nothing as he stood looking at the enemy's line.
"Fear not but they are the right folk, Jack," quoth Will
Green.
"Yea, yea," said he, "but abide awhile; they could make nought
of the highway, and two of their sergeants had a message from the
grey-goose feather. Abide, for they have not crossed the road to
our right hand, and belike have not seen our fellows on the other
side, who are now for a bushment to them."
I looked hard at the man. He was a tall, wiry, and
broad-shouldered fellow, clad in a handsome armour of bright steel
that certainly had not been made for a yeoman, but over it he had a
common linen smock-frock or gabardine, like our field workmen wear
now or used to wear, and in his helmet he carried instead of a
feather a wisp of wheaten straw. He bore a heavy axe in his hand
besides the sword he was girt with, and round his neck hung a great
horn for blowing. I should say that I knew that there were at least
three "Jack Straws" among the fellowship of the discontented, one
of whom was over in Essex.
As we waited there, every bowman with his shaft nocked on the
string, there was a movement in the line opposite, and presently
came from it a little knot of three men, the middle one on
horseback, the other two armed with long-handled glaives; all three
well muffled up in armour. As they came nearer I could see that the
horseman had a tabard over his armour, gaily embroidered with a
green tree on a gold ground, and in his hand a trumpet.
"They are come to summon us. Wilt thou that he speak, Jack?"
said Will Green.
"Nay," said the other; "yet shall he have warning first. Shoot
when my horn blows!"
And therewith he came up to the hedge, climbed over, slowly
because of his armour, and stood some dozen yards out in the field.
The man on horseback put his trumpet to his mouth and blew a long
blast, and then took a scroll into his hand and made as if he were
going to read; but Jack Straw lifted up his voice and cried
out:
"Do it not, or thou art but dead! We will have no accursed
lawyers and their sheep-skins here! Go back to those that sent
thee——"
But the man broke in in a loud harsh voice:
"Ho! YE PEOPLE! what will ye gathering in arms?"
Then cried Jack Straw:
"Sir Fool, hold your peace till ye have heard me, or else we
shoot at once. Go back to those that sent thee, and tell them that
we free men of Kent are on the way to London to speak with King
Richard, and to tell him that which he wots not; to wit, that there
is a certain sort of fools and traitors to the realm who would put
collars on our necks and make beasts of us, and that it is his
right and his devoir to do as he swore when he was crowned and
anointed at Westminster on the Stone of Doom, and gainsay these
thieves and traitors; and if he be too weak, then shall we help
him; and if he will not be king, then shall we have one who will
be, and that is the King's Son of Heaven. Now, therefore, if any
withstand us on our lawful errand as we go to speak with our own
king and lord, let him look to it. Bear back this word to them that
sent thee. But for thee, hearken, thou bastard of an inky
sheep-skin! get thee gone and tarry not; three times shall I lift
up my hand, and the third time look to thyself, for then shalt thou
hear the loose of our bowstrings, and after that nought else till
thou hearest the devil bidding thee welcome to hell!"
Our fellows shouted, but the summoner began again, yet in a
quavering voice:
"Ho! YE PEOPLE! what will ye gathering in arms? Wot ye not that
ye are doing or shall do great harm, loss, and hurt to the king's
lieges——"
He stopped; Jack Straw's hand was lowered for the second time.
He looked to his men right and left, and then turned rein and
turned tail, and scuttled back to the main body at his swiftest.
Huge laughter rattled out all along our line as Jack Straw climbed
back into the orchard grinning also.
Then we noted more movement in the enemy's line. They were
spreading the archers and arbalestiers to our left, and the
men-at-arms and others also spread some, what under the three
pennons of which Long Gregory had told us, and which were plain
enough to us in the dear evening. Presently the moving line faced
us, and the archers set off at a smart pace toward us, the
men-at-arms holding back a little behind them. I knew now that they
had been within bowshot all along, but our men were loth to shoot
before their first shots would tell, like those half-dozen in the
road when, as they told me afterwards, a plump of their men-at-arms
had made a show of falling on.
But now as soon as those men began to move on us directly in
face, Jack Straw put his horn to his lips and blew a loud rough
blast that was echoed by five or six others along the orchard
hedge. Every man had his shaft nocked on the string; I watched
them, and Will Green specially; he and his bow and its string
seemed all of a piece, so easily by seeming did he draw the nock of
the arrow to his ear. A moment, as he took his aim, and then—O then
did I understand the meaning of the awe with which the ancient poet
speaks of the loose of the god Apollo's bow; for terrible indeed
was the mingled sound of the twanging bowstring and the whirring
shaft so close to me.
I was now on my knees right in front of Will and saw all
clearly; the arbalestiers (for no long-bow men were over against
our stead) had all of them bright headpieces, and stout body-armour
of boiled leather with metal studs, and as they came towards us, I
could see over their shoulders great wooden shields hanging at
their backs. Further to our left their long-bow men had shot almost
as soon as ours, and I heard or seemed to hear the rush of the
arrows through the apple-boughs and a man's cry therewith; but with
us the long-bow had been before the cross-bow; one of the
arbalestiers fell outright, his great shield clattering down on
him, and moved no more; while three others were hit and were
crawling to the rear. The rest had shouldered their bows and were
aiming, but I thought unsteadily; and before the triggers were
drawn again Will Green had nocked and loosed, and not a few others
of our folk; then came the wooden hail of the bolts rattling
through the boughs, but all overhead and no one hit.
The next time Will Green nocked his arrow he drew with a great
shout, which all our fellows took up; for the arbalestiers instead
of turning about in their places covered by their great shields and
winding up their cross-bows for a second shot, as is the custom of
such soldiers, ran huddling together toward their men-at-arms, our
arrows driving thump-thump into their shields as they ran: I saw
four lying on the field dead or sore wounded.
But our archers shouted again, and kept on each plucking the
arrows from the ground, and nocking and loosing swiftly but
deliberately at the line before them; indeed now was the time for
these terrible bowmen, for as Will Green told me afterwards they
always reckoned to kill through cloth or leather at five hundred
yards, and they had let the cross-bow men come nearly within three
hundred, and these were now all mingled and muddled up with the
men-at-arms at scant five hundred yards' distance; and belike, too,
the latter were not treating them too well, but seemed to be
belabouring them with their spear-staves in their anger at the
poorness of the play; so that as Will Green said it was like
shooting at hay-ricks.
All this you must understand lasted but a few minutes, and when
our men had been shooting quite coolly, like good workmen at
peaceful work, for a few minutes more, the enemy's line seemed to
clear somewhat; the pennon with the three red kine showed in front
and three men armed from head to foot in gleaming steel, except for
their short coats bright with heraldry, were with it. One of them
(and he bore the three kine on his coat) turned round and gave some
word of command, and an angry shout went up from them, and they
came on steadily towards us, the man with the red kine on his coat
leading them, a great naked sword in his hand: you must note that
they were all on foot; but as they drew nearer I saw their horses
led by grooms and pages coming on slowly behind them.
Sooth said Will Green that the men-at-arms run not fast either
to or fro the fray; they came on no faster than a hasty walk, their
arms clashing about them and the twang of the bows and whistle of
the arrows never failing all the while, but going on like the push
of the westerly gale, as from time to time the men-at-arms shouted,
"Ha! ha! out! out! Kentish thieves!"
But when they began to fall on, Jack Straw shouted out, "Bills
to the field! bills to the field!"
Then all our billmen ran up and leapt over the hedge into the
meadow and stood stoutly along the ditch under our bows, Jack Straw
in the forefront handling his great axe. Then he cast it into his
left hand, caught up his horn and winded it loudly. The men-at-arms
drew near steadily, some fell under the arrow-storm, but not a
many; for though the target was big, it was hard, since not even
the cloth-yard shaft could pierce well-wrought armour of plate, and
there was much armour among them. Withal the arbalestiers were
shooting again, but high and at a venture, so they did us no
hurt.
But as these soldiers made wise by the French war were now
drawing near, and our bowmen were casting down their bows and
drawing their short swords, or handling their axes, as did Will
Green, muttering, "Now must Hob Wright's gear end this play"—while
this was a-doing, lo, on a sudden a flight of arrows from our right
on the flank of the sergeants' array, which stayed them somewhat;
not because it slew many men, but because they began to bethink
them that their foes were many and all around them; then the
road-hedge on the right seemed alive with armed men, for whatever
could hold sword or staff amongst us was there; every bowman also
leapt our orchard-hedge sword or axe in hand, and with a great
shout, billmen, archers, and all, ran in on them; half-armed, yea,
and half-naked some of them; strong and stout and lithe and light
withal, the wrath of battle and the hope of better times lifting up
their hearts till nothing could withstand them. So was all mingled
together, and for a minute or two was a confused clamour over which
rose a clatter like the riveting of iron plates, or the noise of
the street of coppersmiths at Florence; then the throng burst open
and the steel-clad sergeants and squires and knights ran huddling
and shuffling towards their horses; but some cast down their
weapons and threw up their hands and cried for peace and ransom;
and some stood and fought desperately, and slew some till they were
hammered down by many strokes, and of these were the bailiffs and
tipstaves, and the lawyers and their men, who could not run and
hoped for no mercy.
I looked as on a picture and wondered, and my mind was at strain
to remember something forgotten, which yet had left its mark on it.
I heard the noise of the horse-hoofs of the fleeing men-at-arms
(the archers and arbalestiers had scattered before the last minutes
of the play), I heard the confused sound of laughter and rejoicing
down in the meadow, and close by me the evening wind lifting the
lighter twigs of the trees, and far away the many noises of the
quiet country, till light and sound both began to fade from me and
I saw and heard nothing.
I leapt up to my feet presently and there was Will Green before
me as I had first seen him in the street with coat and hood and the
gear at his girdle and his unstrung bow in his hand; his face
smiling and kind again, but maybe a thought sad.
"Well," quoth I, "what is the tale for the ballad-maker?"
"As Jack Straw said it would be," said he, "'the end of the day
and the end of the fray;'" and he pointed to the brave show of the
sky over the sunken sun; "the knights fled and the sheriff dead:
two of the lawyer kind slain afield, and one hanged: and cruel was
he to make them cruel: and three bailiffs knocked on the head—stout
men, and so witless, that none found their brains in their skulls;
and five arbalestiers and one archer slain, and a score and a half
of others, mostly men come back from the French wars, men of the
Companions there, knowing no other craft than fighting for gold;
and this is the end they are paid for. Well, brother, saving the
lawyers who belike had no souls, but only parchment deeds and
libels of the same, God rest their souls!"
He fell a-musing; but I said, "And of our Fellowship were any
slain?"
"Two good men of the township," he said, "Hob Horner and Antony
Webber, were slain outright, Hob with a shaft and Antony in the
hand-play, and John Pargetter hurt very sore on the shoulder with a
glaive; and five more men of the Fellowship slain in the hand-play,
and some few hurt, but not sorely. And as to those slain, if God
give their souls rest it is well; for little rest they had on the
earth belike; but for me, I desire rest no more."
I looked at him and our eyes met with no little love; and I
wondered to see how wrath and grief within him were contending with
the kindness of the man, and how clear the tokens of it were in his
face.
"Come now, old lad," said he, "for I deem that John Ball and
Jack Straw have a word to say to us at the cross yet, since these
men broke off the telling of the tale; there shall we know what we
are to take in hand to-morrow. And afterwards thou shalt eat and
drink in my house this once, if never again."
So we went through the orchard closes again; and others were
about and anigh us, all turned towards the cross as we went over
the dewy grass, whereon the moon was just beginning to throw
shadows.
Chapter 7
MORE WORDS AT THE CROSS
I got into my old place again on the steps of the cross, Will
Green beside me, and above me John Ball and Jack Straw again. The
moon was half-way up the heavens now, and the short summer night
had begun, calm and fragrant, with just so much noise outside our
quiet circle as made one feel the world alive and happy.
We waited silently until we had heard John Ball and the story of
what was to do; and presently he began to speak.
"Good people, it is begun, but not ended. Which of you is hardy
enough to wend the road to London to-morrow?"
"All! All!" they shouted.
"Yea," said he, "even so I deemed of you. Yet forsooth hearken!
London is a great and grievous city; and mayhappen when ye come
thither it shall seem to you overgreat to deal with, when ye
remember the little townships and the cots ye came from.
"Moreover, when ye dwell here in Kent ye think forsooth of your
brethren in Essex or Suffolk, and there belike an end.
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